Little Lies
by kerianne
Summary: A very different take on the Aoki/Karen pairing. It may be unlikely, but at least it's interesting. *snicker* (rating for language) NEW! Final chapter up... finally! o.o;;;
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This is probably one of the most original Aoki/Karen fics out there (not that that's a difficult title to gain, considering there really aren't very many of them ~~;;;). Most fics about them deal with the issue of his wife and daughter as opposed to his relationship with Karen; mine simply asks, what if the wife and kid never existed? ^___^ It's written from Aoki's POV, and you may think he is a bit out of character, because for some reason his voice ended up coming off as more smartass and sarcastic than I had planned. ^^;;; OK, I've babbled enough. Enjoy and leave C&C! ^_^

Little Lies  
by Kerianne H.

Chapter One  


The moment that Ikaru Shimako entered my office, I knew that whatever was about to happen could only end badly. 

Er... excuse me, Aoki-sama, but...

No one ever calls me unless they want something. And, taking into account the kicked-puppy expression on this particular mangaka's face, it was going to be something horrible. However, since I am a really nice guy, I simply smiled brightly and said Yes, Ikaru-san?

If I may be so bold as to ask you for a very important favor... She squirmed, face heating up. 

I braced myself. Go ahead.

I need you to go to a soapland for me.

Definitely. This was _definitely_ going to end badly, I thought, desperately trying to fight down the blush I could tell was working its way into my cheeks.

Ikaru refused to meet my eye, face flaming bright red at this point. Would... would you?

... Why? I managed to choke out.

Well... you see... I want to set a few scenes of my new manga in a soapland... and I think an interview with a soapland mistress would add a layer of realism to it that I couldn't get on my own... 

So why don't you go yourself? The thought of me setting foot in a soapland... I found myself running nervous fingers through my hair, picturing myself being dragged into one of those dens of depravity. God only knew what could happen to a respectable, unassuming man like me in that sort of place!

Ah... well, there are a few reasons for that, really. She was sweet-talking me now, all big innocent eyes and soft plaintive voice. First of all, I've heard that the women who work in those places aren't really willing to talk to other women...

What's the other reason?

She coughed, looking away again. Well, you must admit it would look a little odd... for a woman like me to be seen in a place like that...

Apparently she thought I'd fit right in, then. I was almost offended. My mind raced as I tried to come up with some kind of excuse. Er... why don't you ask one of the other men to do it, then? _Why me?_ is what I wanted to say, but somehow I doubted that would go over too well.

Suddenly she looked doubly embarrassed. I thought you would be a good choice because... ah... well... you wouldn't get... distracted... as some of the others might...

I frowned, not quite understanding. You mean...

Well... you are... um... gay... aren't you? 

For the second time that day, I found myself speechless.

I'm sorry, did I say something wrong--

I closed my eyes. No, Ikaru-san. Nothing at all. I'll do it.

* * * * *

And that is how I found myself standing in the middle of one of Tokyo's most low-class districts, in front of a small, dingy building with a flickering neon sign that read _Flower_.

I'm sure by now you're wondering why I didn't just tell the mangaka where to shove her little idea. Believe me, I was wondering the very same thing as I stood there in front of that building, trying to force my feet to move me through the doorway. There I was, dressed up in my best brown suit, hair neatly combed, briefcase and files under one arm, just begging for some half-dressed immoral woman to pounce upon me and force me to carry out any number of her perverted desires.

Well, okay, maybe I was overstating the situation a little. Still, at that moment, I would have preferred to be nearly anywhere else but in front of that little building called _Flower_.

A man walking by on the street whistled and gave me a thumbs-up. Good luck, buddy! They say your first time's always the best, he said with a wink, probably noting my nervous demeanor and taking me for a first-time customer.

I decided maybe I had better just go inside and get it over with.

The inside of the building wasn't quite as bad as I had expected. If you ignored the two scantily clad women who welcomed me as I walked through the door, or the nude statues generously scattered around as decoration, it almost looked like some sort of hotel lobby. The woman at the front desk was polite and accomodating. She was also wearing clothing, which was a plus.

How may I help you, sir?

I coughed, realizing that a thousand businessmen much like me had probably stood at this counter with intentions to do a lot more than simply speak to the girls who waited beyond the service desk. Er... I'm Aoki Seiichirou from Kadokawa Shoten... I'm here for an interview?

She shuffled through some papers, then looked back up at me and smiled. Ah, yes, Aoki-san. I've chosen one of our most experienced girls to speak to you. She's waiting for you in room number 4. 

Maybe it was the most experienced comment, maybe it was the she's waiting for you part, but something about that introduction didn't exactly set me at ease. I managed to keep from blushing too badly as I took the key from the woman's hand. She smiled in an almost understanding way, and pointed out the hallway that led to the rooms.

My mind raced with possibilities as I slowly made my way down the unlit hallway. What was it like to interview a prostitute? What if the girl didn't realize I was only here for an interview? What if she tried to--

There it was. _4_, a small gold plate proclaimed on the otherwise blank white door. It didn't look like a den of depravity. It looked like the outside of every hotel room I'd ever stayed in. But the thought of what was behind it was enough to make my knees weak with nervousness.

Closing my eyes, drawing a deep breath, I placed my hand on the cool gold doorknob. It took every inch of courage I had to twist that doorknob and open the door, but I'm somewhat proud to say that I managed to do it.

The first thing I noticed was a rush of sweet-smelling perfume. It wasn't cheap or overpowering, just... nice. Like roses. I almost relaxed. 

Then I opened my eyes.

And blinked in confusion. It didn't just look like a hotel room on the outside, it looked like one on the inside too. Well, it was a little small, and most hotel rooms didn't have a bathtub in the middle of the bedroom, but it certainly didn't look like a place where twisted sex acts went on at all hours of the day. There weren't even any whips or chains or torture devices. I almost went back out into the lobby and asked the woman if she was sure she'd sent me to the right place-- maybe this was the employees' lounge or something.

Then I heard the voice.

Please come in, sir...

She sounded nothing like I'd expected her to sound. Sure, there was a little seduction in her voice, but it didn't make me feel as if I were about to be pounced upon the moment I stepped through the door. So, since I figured I had nothing to lose by doing so, I walked in.

I noticed two things right away. There was a bed, and she was sitting on it.

She smiled. Hello, would you like to sit down? Make yourself at home.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard her words. The rest of me was pretty much focused on staring at her. I had pictured a little blonde underaged temptress, or an older woman with heavy makeup and frizzy hair and a desperate need to hang on to her youth. 

The woman before me was neither of those things. She was... beautiful. Really beautiful, in a way that wasn't cheap or promiscuous at all, despite the fact that she was wearing skimpy lingerie and a seductive smile. Her eyes were golden, and her hair was a light red, curled around her face in a perfectly tousled style. She seemed a little surprised to see me, too. I guess I wasn't what she had expected either, because we both took a moment to look each other over.

After a while, the intelligent part of my brain kicked back in, and I realized I looked like a real idiot standing there gaping. Stepping forward quickly, I offered my hand to her. I'm Aoki Seiichirou from Kadokawa Shoten. Editor of Asuka magazine.

She smiled slowly, taking my hand with a firm but gentle grip and shaking it. An editor, hmm? I used to read shoujo manga when I was younger...

I realized that she was probably around my age-- in her thirties. She didn't quite look her age, but there was a mature air about her that most women in their twenties didn't seem to have. Not that I was any sort of expert on women.

It's nice to meet you, Aoki-san, she said, interrupting my thoughts. If you'll excuse me, I'll get everything set up...

She was already halfway across the room when the words finally sank in. I sputtered.

The woman turned back to me with a surprised expression. I... I think there's been a mistake, I explained hurriedly. I'm not here for... you know... services... _/Oh God, please kill me now_./

An amused smirk crossed her face. Well, what are you here for, then?

I had the most mortifying feeling that she thought I was playing some sort of game, or just being shy. I... I'm here to interview you. For Asuka. I mean, for a manga in Asuka.

Really... an interview... I've never been interviewed before. She smiled. It should be an interesting experience. Why don't you come and sit down, then?

I breathed a slight sigh of relief, then took it back when I realized where she wanted me to sit. Next to her. On the bed.

You're awfully nervous, aren't you? she noted, sitting down so close to me that our legs were nearly touching. Have you ever been to a soapland before?

I shook my head vehemently, and she laughed. You don't seem like the type. That's why I looked so surprised when you arrived.

What is _the type_?

Well, for one thing, you're too handsome. Most men who come here are here for a reason-- namely, because they can't get a respectable woman to cater to their needs. I don't think you have that problem, though. She winked at me.

I cleared my throat and lied smoothly. Oh, no... not at all. _/I just haven't had a date in nearly a year, that's all,/_ piped up that little taunting mental voice that always seemed to turn up at the worst possible time. I did my best to ignore it. 

So most men who come here are either old, fat, bald, ugly, or some combination thereof. I must say, it's refreshing to spend some time with an attractive, respectable man like you.

I couldn't figure out if she was flirting with me or just buttering me up. Either way, I wasn't taking the bait. I was here for an interview and nothing more. Arranging my notepad on my lap, I looked down at the list of questions I had hurriedly prepared. How long have you worked here?

I've only been working here at Flower for three years, but I've been in the soapland business since I was eighteen, she responded, without a trace of bitterness in her voice. I'm nearly thirty now.

That's... a long time, I murmured, feeling a sudden rush of compassion for this woman and what she might have become had she not found herself stuck here at such a young age. 

She shrugged, smiling a little. It's not so bad, as jobs go. The pay's not terrible. At least I'm making a living. She stopped, and frowned. I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Kasumi Karen.

Nice to meet you, Kasumi-san, I responded automatically.

Please, call me Karen. She smiled warmly. Formality isn't my style.

All right... Karen-san... I couldn't help leaving the honorific on, considering formality _was_ my style.

Karen laughed softly. Karen-san... I like it.

I found myself smiling back at her, and realized with a start that I was actually feeling rather relaxed. Remembering where I was, and who this woman really was, I quickly collected myself and went back to the interview.

After only a few questions, I knew everything I needed to know for the mangaka. Karen clearly liked to talk-- it didn't seem like she had many friends, and I got the feeling she was a little starved for companionship. It was quite disconcerting to realize that this dreaded woman of loose morals was nothing more than a human being in a bad situation. I was identifying with her far too much. It was time to leave.

Well, I think I've got all the information I need-- I said, beginning to stand up.

Good. Then you won't mind if I ask you a few things about yourself in return. Her eyes sparkled. It's only fair.

I hesitated, then sat back down. All right, but only a few. Meanwhile, the sane part of my mind was screaming at me to get out while I still could. I ignored it.

Oh, it won't take long. In fact, now that I think of it, I really only have one question for you... Would you like to go out to dinner sometime? She looked straight into my eyes, and I felt the beginnings of butterflies in my stomach. I guess I took too long to respond, because she quickly continued, I won't look like this, of course. I actually do own respectable clothing. If anyone asks, you can tell them I'm a secretary or something. It's just that... I don't meet men like you every day... and I can't just let you leave without taking a chance and asking you...

She was still staring into my eyes. It had an almost hypnotic effect. I was finding it very difficult to think, so I just opened my mouth to speak, and what came out was...

I'm married.

Her face fell visibly. she said in a reserved tone, .... oh.

I'm sorry... I said in a distracted voice. I couldn't believe that such an utterly, completely bald-faced lie had come out of my mouth. I couldn't possibly have been any further from married. I hadn't even had a steady girlfriend in over a year. But now the damage was done, and she was sure to want to know more about my supposed wife, and I was going to have to come up with some kind of story.

Yes... her name is... My mind immediately raced through the names of every female I knew, finally settling upon the name of the mangaka whose fault this whole insane business really was. 

That's a pretty name, Karen said softly, a faraway and disappointed look in her eyes. She paused for a moment. What does she look like?

Oh, she's... quite lovely really... long dark hair, and blue eyes... I described the young mangaka to a tee, all the while aware of the fact that this particular Shimako had a boyfriend-- an extremely _large_ boyfriend-- who would probably be more than willing to pound me into a little flat sheet of former manga editor if he found out I was claiming to be married to her.

She sounds quite beautiful, Karen continued in that same subdued voice. Well, you know what they say... all the good men are taken or gay...

Ouch. That was the second time that day that someone had mentioned me and gay in the same context. Maybe I _should_ have accepted Karen's offer of a date, if only to keep up appearances...

The truth was, I almost did wish I'd taken her up on the offer. She was gorgeous, and she seemed to be quite intelligent and quite good company as well. She was also practically a prostitute. And I was just not that kind of guy. Case closed.

Just one little lie was all it took. One harmless, little lie. It hadn't hurt anything. Not even when I embellished upon it by adding a child to the mix, a young daughter, nearly four years old. Who would ever know the difference? I was never going to see Karen again, and it was better to let her down this way than to tell her the truth and make her feel inferior. After a while, I was really getting into it, describing our lavish wedding and our honeymoon in the Bahamas and the way _she_ had proposed to _me_, instead of the other way around. Karen seemed really interested, after she got over the initial disappointment. 

After a while, I happened to look at my watch and noted with shock that I had been there for nearly three hours. I've really got to be going, I said in a regretful tone. I have a lot of other work to get done today, and I'd rather get home to my family than work overtime tonight.

Your daughter is very lucky to have a father like you, Karen said softly as she saw me out the door, giving me a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. And your wife is very lucky to have a husband like you. Goodbye, Aoki Seiichirou. It was wonderful to meet you.

The pleasure was all mine, Karen-san, I said, sparing her a real, warm smile as I walked out. I didn't turn back. I might not have been able to leave if I had.

Once out on the street, I breathed a sigh of relief, but a sort of emptiness had settled itself in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't thought about being lonely for quite a long time, but now it seemed almost unbearable. My thoughts lingered on her as I drove home; once or twice I considered turning the car around and going back, but of course I didn't. 

There was no loving wife to await me when I returned to my apartment that night, and no bright-eyed child to sweep up into my arms and hug. Still, I managed to convince myself that I was going to be all right. I would forget her, and she would forget me, and we'd each live the lives we were meant to live, completely separate of each other. This wasn't some cheesy romance novel, where the hero and heroine met, then lost each other, then found each other again. That one meeting had been the beginning and the end of any story that Karen and I could possibly share.

However, in the spirit of all true romances, the plot twist was yet to come. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

So. Fast-forward about two years. I'd nearly forgotten she existed. Oh, the first few weeks were difficult... I found myself driving around that particular district a lot more than usual, staring out the window in hopes of seeing her taking a break outside the building or something. But I guess time does heal all things, because I went on with my life. I still thought of her occasionally, and the word always automatically brought to mind an image of a lovely golden-eyed redhead in lingerie perched on a bed, but after a while I had more or less recovered.

Then, this whole crazy end of the world business started. And that's when things really got interesting.

I can't remember the exact circumstances of our second meeting. All I know is, she looked exactly the way I remembered her looking two years earlier, only this time she was sitting in a tree.

For a moment I thought I was hallucinating. Then I looked around, and realized that the rest of the Seals saw her as well. Sorata even seemed to recognize her.

She wasn't looking at them, though. She was looking at me. And she didn't even look surprised. Hopping down out of the tree, she walked over with no hesitation at all. Mind if I join you? Sorry I'm late.

I said, in a rather idiotic tone.

She smiled knowingly, then turned to the others. I don't think we've been introduced. My name's Kasumi Karen."

Everyone responded in kind. I was dreading the moment when their attention would turn to me, but it was bound to happen eventually. Er... Aoki Seiichirou... of Kadokawa... Shoten...

Oh, I remember you. Karen's face broke into a wide, amused grin. I always knew we'd meet again...

The others were staring at me. No doubt wondering what connection a shy, repressed, conservative guy like me could possibly have with a half-dressed woman who hung out in trees, and anyway, isn't he gay?

You know each other? Sorata asked.

I sighed heavily, deciding to explain before Karen got a chance to do more damage to my reputation. Er... not exactly... we just-- 

She still beat me to it. He came to my place of employment as a customer.

From the way Sorata's jaw dropped, I figured he was fully aware of exactly what Karen's place of employment was. I was blushing again. Damn her.

For an interview, I said shortly, pasting on a smile, trying to act like the whole thing amused me greatly and not like I wished the ground would swallow me up forever. I needed some information for a mangaka.

Karen turned to me, and her voice took on a more serious tone when she spoke again. How's your family doing?

..... Uh-oh.

I stared at her, memories of my stupid, stupid lie rushing back into my mind. Meanwhile, the others were all murmuring various expressions of surprise, oh he has a family? oh how cute, I never knew... hmm, I wouldn't have thought he'd be the type to get married...

... Aoki-san? Did I say something wrong? She looked a little nervous, undoubtedly wondering if perhaps there had been a divorce or a tragedy since she had last spoken to me. If she only knew.

No, no, not at all, I replied, collecting myself. .... Shimako... and... Yuka-chan... are just fine... I managed a sickly smile.

Her face softened. That's good to hear.

I muttered, hoping she wouldn't pick up on the sarcasm in my voice. Just great.

* * * * *

Working with her was hell.

It really was. We were automatically pushed together by the fact that we were older than the rest of the Seals by a pretty considerable amount. And Karen seemed to consider me sort of a confidant-- that is, when she wasn't flirting with me. Apparently my fabricated family wasn't enough to dissuade her from dropping a suggestive comment or a flirty glance every now and then. 

But mostly we just talked a lot, and drank a lot of tea. I'd try really hard to listen to what she was saying, but it was hard when the vast majority of my brainpower was dedicated to watching her lips move and her eyes sparkle and her hair shimmer in the faint light of her apartment. She also liked to wear low-cut dresses. As much as I hated to admit it, it made concentration that much more difficult.

The worst part is, she seemed to really like to talk about my . A lot more than a woman who was supposedly romantically interested in me should have-- unless, of course, she was just trying to get more information on her competition. Somehow I didn't think that was the reason. She'd get kind of a dreamy look on her face when I'd tell a story about taking my daughter to the park, or spending a romantic weekend with my wife by the sea, and after a while I began to wonder if she didn't like my family stories more than she liked me.

And yet, I kept telling them. In retrospect, I probably should have come clean the moment we'd met the second time, when she'd asked me how my family was. It had been two years since I'd told the lie, and I probably could have chalked it up to past stupidity and gotten out of it without her being too terribly mad at me. And even if she was, what did it matter? She was just some soapgirl I'd interviewed for my job, and now she was just another one of the Seals, just a coworker of sorts. It's not like I needed to care.

Do you like Karen? Yuzuriha asked me one day while I was visiting the Imonoyama mansion.

Sure I do, I answered distractedly. I was in the process of cooking dinner for the others. I'm a pretty good cook. Which, now that I think of it, is probably another reason everyone thinks I'm gay. Oh well. 

No, I mean... do you like her?

I looked down at the young girl. She was smirking in that sickening I've got a secret kind of way. Oh, good Lord. I don't know what you mean, I answered shortly. Playing dumb usually worked.

Yes you do. Quit playing dumb, Aoki-san.

Well, damn. I sighed. You mean, am I romantically interested in her?

No. I'm married. I braced myself for the bolt of lightning from the heavens that I always expected when I told this particular little white lie. Of course, it didn't come. I was sure God had some greater punishment in mind for me. Like, oh, maybe having to work with Karen and her sparkly eyes and low-cut dresses in a , sort of way for another thousand years or so. 

Well, if you weren't married, would you like her like that? 

I don't know, I replied with another sigh. I am, though, so what's the use in speculating about it?

I dunno. I think you two would make the cutest couple.

That's good to know, I muttered distractedly, stirring the rice on the stove with a wooden spoon.

And she seems so lonely. She deserves someone who appreciates her.

And you spend a lot of time together...

So maybe you should... I dunno... have a torrid affair or something.

That got my attention. I nearly overturned the pot, whirling around to stare at Yuzuriha. Where in heaven's name did you learn about torrid affairs?

I watch TV, you know, she retorted. I think you should. It'd be so romantic.

Right. I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply. How on earth had I gotten to this point in my life? I was standing in a kitchen being advised by a 14-year-old to cheat on a wife I didn't even have. I'll consider it, I muttered finally, just to get rid of her.

The genki squeal was enough to make my ears hurt. I'll go tell Karen.

You do tha-- Wait! No you won't! I grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

Yes I will.

You will not.

Fine. I won't. She smiled angelically. I didn't trust her one bit, but I let go of her shoulder, mostly because the rice was burning and Sorata always whined when the rice was burnt.

Later on, when I met up with Karen, she was smirking. I made a mental vow to keep Yuzu away from the TV from now on.

So, I hear you'd be interested in having a torrid affair with me.

Predictably, I blushed. Yuzuriha-chan is too pushy for her own good.

I see. She grinned, reaching out and playing with my tie absently. So, would you or wouldn't you?

Ah... er... Her hand was just inches away from my chest, and I found myself waiting for the warmth of a touch that would never come. ... No... I mean... not that I... not that you're not... but... I couldn't--

She giggled and let go of the tie. Don't worry, Aoki-san. I understand. But... if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.

I watched her walk away, swaying in all the right places, and felt my face heating up all over again.

Damn her.

* * * * *

I overheard her talking to Sorata about me once. I felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to stop listening.

Well, of course I like him, she said, and having sudden flashbacks to my conversation with Yuzuriha, I felt sorry for Karen. He's smart and charming and kind... great sense of humor... handsome....

Sorata said something I couldn't quite hear. His voice didn't carry as well as Karen's did-- or maybe I just wasn't as trained to recognize it. 

He's married, she answered in a resigned tone. But that's okay. I really love the way he's completely devoted to his family. I can tell he loves them so much-- he can hardly stop talking about them.

Inwardly I groaned.

No... I'm not jealous... I listened harder, trying to figure out if I heard any sign of self-deception in her voice. I thought I heard a little, but maybe it was just because I wanted to.

No, I wouldn't have an affair with him! You're as bad as Yuzuriha! I heard Sorata laughing, then Karen spoke again. I'd never try to come between him and his family. I just wish I could meet them someday. He makes them sound like such wonderful people.

Uh-oh. I crossed my fingers, hoping she didn't have her heart too terribly set on that idea.

Hmm, maybe I will ask him.

... Like I said, uh-oh.

* * * *

Listen, Aoki-san, if you don't want me to meet your family because I'm not respectable enough, just tell me that. 

She was angry. I could tell by the way she pressed her lips together and the snapping fire in her eyes. It wasn't a good feeling.

Of course it's not that, Karen-san... I was whining. I was making puppy-dog eyes at her. I was making myself sick.

Then what is it? She glared back, not falling for the cute act at all. You think your wife's going to think you're cheating on her with me? Do I look like someone's mistress?

Well, what's the problem then? It occurred to me that she was whining a little herself. You've told me so much about them. If your wife's really as wonderful as you make her sound, she'll understand. And after all, how many men really introduce their wives to their mistresses anyway?

I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled weakly. Oh... well... she's really rather jealous, you know...

She is not. You're just making excuses. Karen glared at me for a moment. Then her expression softened and she sighed and turned away. I'm sorry. I shouldn't nag you. It's your family, it's your business. I just... wanted to know a little more about what your life is like... She looked up at me, suddenly all innocence and big sparkly golden eyes.

I held out for about ten seconds. Then, resigning myself to my fate, I said softly, All right. I'll tell Shimako that I'll be having a guest for dinner next weekend.

Karen's eyes lit up, and for one exhilarating moment I thought she was going to glomp me. Unfortunately, the moment passed, and she just smiled brightly and said Thank you so much, Aoki-san! It means a lot to me.

No problem, I muttered, staring down at the carpet. None at all.

Oh, don't look so worried, she said teasingly. It'll be fun!

Right. Fun. I had exactly one week to come up with a wife, a daughter, and a family history.

I could hardly wait.

* * * * *

Er... excuse me... Ikaru-sama...

No one ever calls me Ikaru-sama unless they want something. What is it, Aoki-san?

I need to ask you for a very important favor... 

The mangaka laughed nervously. This isn't going to be some kind of payback for the whole soapland business, is it? Because... I really-- 

No, no payback. I'm serious.

... Go ahead, then.

I need you to pose as my wife.

She stared at me. Then she laughed. Right, Aoki-san. I saw that movie a few weeks ago.

No. Really. I'm serious, I said desperately.

She blinked. ... Really?

After a few more moments of intensely scrutinizing me, her face broke out into an amused smile, and she nodded. Oh, I know what this is about! 

I frowned. You... do?

More enthusiastic nodding. You need to pretend you're married because there's someone you haven't come out to yet, and you don't want them to know you're gay! That's so cute. Sure, I'll do it.

I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and opened them again. I'm... not gay, Ikaru-san.

It's okay. You can be honest with me. Everyone around here pretty much had that figured out a while back, anyway.

... Oh, lovely. Really. I'm not gay, I said patiently.

It's nothing to be ashamed of, Aoki-san...

Okay, now my patience was beginning to run out. I'm. Not. Gay.

She tilted her head and squinted critically at me. Are you sure?

YES! I think I would know if I was! I took a few more deep breaths, ran my fingers through my hair, and continued in a calmer tone. The whole reason I'm doing this is... there's this woman, and I told her I was married, and now she wants to meet my wife, and, well, I obviously don't have one... and incidentally, do you happen to know any little girls who I could borrow for the day? I told her I had a daughter, too.

A moment of utter silence greeted that little speech. Okay. So what you're telling me is, there's a woman who you care enough about to want to impress, and enough so that you don't have the guts to just tell her you lied... and yet you told her you were married?

.... Yes.

So she wouldn't ask me out.

... But she's important enough to you that you're willing to go through all of this for her.

Ikaru bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at me. Just one more thing...

Are you like, totally sure--

The mangaka sighed deeply. ... All right. Fine. I'll do it. The whole situation is completely and utterly insane, but I'll do it.

I almost glomped her. Thank you. I mean it. You're getting a 30-page spread in the next Asuka, I swear.

She paused. Four color pages?

Four color pages.

You've got yourself a deal, Aoki-san."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Okay. Now who are you again?

Aoki Shimako... your loving, adoring wife. She spoke the words in an utterly sincere tone, but the smirk on her face didn't exactly have me convinced.

And how long have we been married?

Nine years.

And who's that kid sitting on the couch out there?

A brat. Shimako frowned in the direction of the living room. Another loud wail interrupted the relative silence, followed by the distant crash of something I fervently hoped was not breakable. I was beginning to realize why Shimako's neighbor had been so thrilled to allow us to babysit Mika-chan for the evening.

The mangaka sighed. My-- no, our beautiful, adorable daughter.

I nodded curtly. Good. We're all set, then. My voice sounded confident, but rest assured that I was screaming on the inside. There were an infinite number of things that could go wrong, and considering my luck, all of them would.

So, is she pretty? Shimako's tone held an unmistakable note of gossipy nosiness.

You'll see in about five minutes, I muttered. I didn't want to talk about Karen right now. I wanted to enjoy five more minutes of pretending that none of this was happening.

My short period of blissful ignorance became even shorter when the doorbell rang about thirty seconds later. I paused and took a few deep breaths, adrenaline already singing in my veins. The walk from the kitchen through the living room to the door was surreal, as if I was watching a scene in a movie... but when I opened the door and found myself staring into that familiar face, everything came crashing back to reality again.

She was wearing a simple black dress-- that is, it would have been a simple black dress on anyone else, but on her it looked singularly unique. I probably could have stood there and stared all evening, and I might have, if she hadn't stepped forward and smiled a little hesitantly and said Ah... good evening, Aoki-san...

I shook myself, pasted a bright smile on my face, and tried very hard not to blush as I led her into the living room and closed the door behind us. Hello, Karen-san. You look... lovely. The moment the words left my mouth, I began to panic... had I sounded too obvious? 

She must have assumed I was only being a gentleman, because her smile didn't waver and she said flippantly, Oh, this? I just threw it together... You look very nice, though. Interesting to see you in something other than your usual business suit.

I looked self-consciously down at my own outfit-- a white button-down shirt and a pair of dress khakis. I... well... thank you... 

She laughed softly. I wasn't sure what to say next, and I don't think she was either. Luckily, the awkward silence was broken by Shimako's arrival from the kitchen.

Dinner's nearly ready, Seiichirou, she said. I frowned at the unexpected use of my first name-- hardly anyone called me that, except for my mother. All at once I remembered that Shimako was supposed to be my wife, and quickly tried to cover up my surprise with what I hoped was a warm and loving smile.

Shimako ignored my misstep and pressed on, voice bright and cheery. And you must be the woman I've been hearing so much about! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Karen shoot me a quick worried glance. There was no trace of malice in Shimako's voice, however. It's so lovely to meet you, Kasumi-san.

Call me Karen-- oh, is that little Yuka-chan? She's so cute! 

Oh, great. I had forgotten about the kid. She'd been quiet ever since Karen had arrived, distracted by the piece of paper she was methodically tearing to shreds. Which was probably some important document or another. I was too busy praying that this wouldn't be a disaster to care.

A few moments later, the kid was bouncing on Karen's knee and babbling cheerfully away, as if she hadn't been screaming her head off less than ten minutes beforehand. Karen, for her part, seemed to be having a great time. She was definitely going to be a wonderful mother someday.

... For someone else's kids, of course. I managed to drag my straying thoughts back on course just as Shimako announced that dinner was ready, and we all moved into the kitchen to take our seats around the table. I noted with approval that Shimako had done a nice job of setting things up. She'd even dug out some candles from the back of one of my cabinets and put them in the middle of the table. I was beginning to think that I had underestimated her. 

Of course, we hadn't yet gotten through the small talk part of the evening. And after all the exaggerated stories I'd told, I wasn't sure if Shimako was going to get through it without blowing my cover.

Aoki-san's told me all sorts of beautiful stories about the two of you, Karen said, smiling warmly at Shimako. It all sounds terribly romantic-- but I'd love to hear about some of it from your point of view.

Of course she would. I barely suppressed a groan, trying to subtly get Shimako's attention. For her part, the mangaka was beginning to look kind of uncomfortable. she began with a nervous chuckle. ... I'm not sure what you mean, I mean, I wouldn't know where to begin...

Maybe you could tell me about your honeymoon? The way Aoki-san described it was so gorgeous, but maybe you remember some things he doesn't. Karen's smile never wavered, although I'm sure the two of us were beginning to look as if we'd both like to get up from the table and run.

Well... yes, it was very lovely... and... romantic... Shimako trailed off helplessly. It was, ah, one of the best moments of my life, really. 

I had to admire her bravery. A lesser woman probably would've given up at this point.

Karen laughed. Be more specific! I want to hear all the details.

As much as I loved-- liked the woman, I then began thinking some pretty dark thoughts about Karen. For some reason, she was refusing to let the subject drop, even though she had to see how uncomfortable it was making Shimako and I. A sudden cold chill gripped me as I realized that she might be getting suspicious, but I couldn't see a trace of deception on her brightly smiling face, so I put the worries out of my mind.

Shimako turned away, busying herself with cutting up the food on Mika-chan's plate. I... you know, it's been so many years, I'm not sure that I remember all the details....

Well, you were there, weren't you? Karen said pleasantly. I shot her a glance, and she smiled sweetly back. I sighed and looked away. I had always thought Karen was an incredibly intelligent and perceptive woman, but the way she was acting now...

Of... of course I was! Shimako's expression flashed from terrified to confused to determined in just a few seconds, and she sat back down in the chair with a small smile on her lips. Well, if you really want to know...

Taking a deep breath, I stared hard at Shimako and prayed that the gods would carry a couple of psychic brain waves from my mind to hers. 

It was a beautiful week in early August-- the mangaka began. I winced.

Hmm. Aoki-san told me you were married in November, Karen said innocently.

Well... ah... we decided to wait until the summer to take our honeymoon, you know, nicer weather and all, Shimako improvised. Excellent save. I smiled at her.

Karen seemed mollified by this explanation, so Shimako went on. We planned to spend the week in Paris--

Oh, really, you've been to Paris? Aoki-san never mentioned that!

-- but we decided not to, so then we bought tickets to Italy--

Italy? Wow, I've always wanted to go there... Aoki-san, why didn't you tell me about any of this?

-- but at the last minute we switched our tickets and decided to go to... Shimako was beginning to sound a little desperate, and every now and then she'd flick her eyes subtly toward me with a pleading expression on her face. Unluckily, Karen was sitting at the end of the table, which meant she could clearly see both Shimako and I, so I couldn't mouth any encouragement to my .

Well? Don't keep me in suspense!

I gritted my teeth, wondering how Karen could manage to still sound so damned cheerful when everything was falling apart.

... The Bahamas! From the huge smile that broke out on my face, Shimako knew she'd made the right choice. Yes, the Bahamas. It was beautiful... the island plants and the waterfalls, the beaches were lovely...

Karen smiled. I'm sure it was very romantic.

At that moment, the phone rang. I stared at it gratefully. Perhaps the conversation hadn't ended up as disastrous as it had seemed at first, but I wasn't sure if Shimako could hold up through any more guessing games. 

Oh, I'll get that, the mangaka said cheerfully, nearly knocking her chair over in her enthusiasm to get away from the table. Apparently she felt the same way I did.

Karen and I were now alone. I glanced at her, smiling nervously. She returned the smile serenely. Your wife is charming, she said without a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice. She's every bit as lovely as you described her. 

I wasn't sure what to say in response, so I just nodded.

I WANNA GO HOME!

Oh no. I stared across the table at the screaming child, feeling my face flush bright red. I... I'm sorry, she's overtired, I don't know what's wrong with her--

TAKE ME HOME! the girl wailed, cute little face screwed up and tears leaking out of her eyes. I wasn't quite sure how she'd gone from placidly eating her dinner to shrieking like she'd been shot, but children were children.

Yuka-chan, darling, this is your home, I said soothingly, although my voice was shaking.

No it isn't! You aren't my daddy! Let me go home! She had begun to kick the underside of the table, and some of the glassware was dangerously close to teetering off the edge. Desperately I got up and lifted her out of her chair, setting her down on the ground, where she promptly plopped down and began to yell louder than ever. I'M NOT YUKA-CHAN! 

Honey, don't be silly, I snapped irritably. This is no way to act around our guest.

YOU'RE NOT MY DADDY!

In less than thirty seconds, I had used up all my known methods of comforting a child. Sighing, I looked up at Karen with a pleading expression on my face. I'm sorry about this... she's been doing this lately... very overactive imagination, you know, the other day she was convinced she was a princess and we were pirates who had kidnapped her--

Karen giggled. I understand, Aoki-san. Children are children.

I said, slightly confused. I had never known Karen to be quite so dense, but I wasn't about to argue. 

Mika's screams had trailed off into incoherent crying now, so I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned down and whispered into the little girl's ear.

Be a good girl and I'll give you candy.

I swear, her face cleared immediately.

Yes, chocolate, I sighed tiredly.

Interesting parenting methods, Aoki-san. Karen laughed a little, and I couldn't help smiling back.

Ah... Seiichirou? Could you... come in the kitchen for a moment?

Shimako poked her head into the dining room, looking troubled. As soon as I crossed the threshold, she grabbed my arm and dragged me all the way into the kitchen. We've got trouble, she whispered grimly.

You're kidding. What now? I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering if I was even going to survive this evening. 

Yamato found out I was over here, and he's on his way. And he isn't happy.

My eyes widened, and my thoughts were immediately filled with images of all the broken bones I was going to end up with when Shimako's large boyfriend got a hold of me. How-- why-- who told him? I sputtered.

I don't know! I didn't tell anyone about this! Shimako snapped back. ... Well, except my best friend Naoko. And my mother... and my hairdresser Michiko. And a few of my co-workers, and a couple of Internet friends, and-- 

I groaned. Thanks, Shimako-san. Thanks a lot. 

I've got to stop him before he gets here, she muttered, grabbing her coat off the coatrack. Tell Karen, um... tell her my mother got sick and I had to rush to the hospital. Appeal to her sympathetic side. I don't know. I'm sorry about this, Aoki-san.

No, it's my fault, I said desolately. This had all been a very bad idea. All the lies I had told were finally beginning to catch up with me. I was not a dishonest person by nature, and suddenly it became clear to me that I had to come clean, for the sake of my conscience... and for her sake.

I closed my eyes and sighed. Karen, forgive me...

Don't worry, Aoki-san, you're doing fine. Hey, good luck with her, ne? She looks like a keeper. Shimako winked at me. Anou... you never did tell me what all this was about. Is she one of those gals who only dates married men, or what?

Something like that, I said, sighing again.

I'd better get going. I'm really sorry... She turned around and headed for the back entrance, then stopped. Ne... I still get my four color pages in the next Asuka, right?

Sure, Shimako-san. Definitely.

Great! You're a dream, Aoki-san. Ja ne! With that, she was gone, and I was left standing alone in the kitchen, head spinning with troubled thoughts. 

Slowly I dragged myself back out to the dining room. I was too exhausted to even be surprised by the sight of Karen with Mika perched on her knee, telling a story.

... and then the little girl who had such a terrible childhood grew up to be a beautiful warrior. And she met a wonderful man, a knight, who she fell in love with, but-- Karen paused and looked up at me. Oh, Aoki-san, I was just wondering what had happened to you... Is everything all right?

I stared back into her golden eyes, hoping to see a trace of suspicion, of irritation, even of anger. If I had, it would have been much easier to confess. Even so, I took a deep breath, held her gaze, and said...

No, Karen-san, everything is just fine. I'm afraid Shimako-san's mother isn't feeling well, so she had to hurry to the hospital to make sure everything is okay. She said she's terribly sorry, but she was very pleased to meet you and had a good time tonight.

Karen nodded. I'm sorry, she said sincerely. Shimako-san seems like such a wonderful person.

Yes, she is, I said, sighing softly. I had lied yet again. It was as if there was a weight pressing down on my chest, and I could barely bring myself to look up into that trusting golden gaze anymore.

Where did you find her, and how did you convince her to go along with the whole charade, anyway?  
  
  
  
To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4 (end)

Little Lies  
by Kerianne H.

Chapter Four

  
  
W-- What? I could feel all the color draining out of my face as I looked uncomprehendingly up at Karen.

I assume she's one of your co-workers? Karen's face had quickly turned cold, and that trusting gaze had twisted into one of anger and betrayal. She was an awfully good sport. It isn't every day you find a woman who will lie for you, is it? I wonder why you haven't married her for real.

I blinked, still confused. The impossibility of the situation I'd gotten myself into had not yet set in.

Yes, I knew. Of course I knew. I never knew you thought I was stupid, Aoki-san. I couldn't bring myself to look at her face, but from the barely controlled rage in her voice, I knew I had gotten myself into some serious trouble. I had my suspicions before, but when I saw you two together, I really started to wonder. You didn't act anything like any married couple I'd ever seen. But I still wasn't sure, so I decided to do a little investigation. You didn't even bother to make sure your stories matched ahead of time, did you? I can't believe this. I can't even believe it.

No. Don't explain. I've heard enough. Even when it became obvious, you still clung to your little lies. You still insisted on making a fool out of yourself-- and me.

I'm sorry, I interrupted desperately, feeling as if I were about to cry. I'm so sorry. It's just that--

It's just what? The sudden sorrow in her voice forced me to look up at her, and I was shocked to see that she looked near tears herself. It's just that you didn't have the courage to tell me you didn't love me, so you made up this ridiculous story, and even after two years, you didn't feel the need to tell the truth? Am I that disdainful to you? Do you care about me that little?

Karen-san, no--

I knew you could never be what I wanted you to be, she went on, and the barely controlled anguish in her tone made me feel literally sick. But I thought we were friends, at least. I thought you cared about me-- I thought I could trust you. She stopped, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. I really did love you..."

I didn't trust myself to speak after that.

Drawing a shaky breath, she looked down at Mika-chan. Would you like to hear the ending of the story? she asked softly.

The little girl nodded.

And the wonderful man turned out not to be a knight at all. And he broke the woman's heart, and betrayed her trust. And so she left him behind. She carefully lifted the child off her lap and set her down on the ground. The end.

She gave me one last look filled with sorrow and anger, and turned around to leave.

Karen, please--

I'll see you on the Promised Day, Aoki-san.

The door slammed shut a moment later. I stood shocked for a few seconds, then sank slowly into a chair, burying my face in my hands.

There was nothing else left to do.  


* * * * *  


Life goes on, they say. And it did. That is, I continued to get up in the morning, go to work, come home, eat dinner, and go to bed. That probably sounds boring, and it was. Karen was one of the few people in my life who could shake me out of my routine, and I missed that.

In fact, I missed her. I missed her smiles, her wit, her subtle flirtations, the way she made me feel special and important and needed. Without our impromptu coffee dates and lively conversations, my life was colorless and  
bland. I was just another faceless salaryman. 

I passed the time by trying to think of ways to win her back. I rehearsed my explanation and apology at least a thousand times. But no matter how hard I tried to explain it away, the truth remained that I had been dishonest. And I didn't even have a good excuse for it. As much as I tried to rationalize it to myself, the only reason I had lied to Karen was because...

... because I was ashamed of her somehow. Even after she had proven to be a classy, intelligent, kind and articulate woman, I hadn't been able to move past her less-than-respectable job title. And now, the only thing I was ashamed of was my own stupidity. I knew she saw me as one of the only people she could trust, one of the only people who bothered to look beyond the surface. I didn't want her to know that I had not lived up to her expectations.

I didn't want her to know that I had failed her.

So I stayed away, and grew a little more numb every day. I tried not to think about the fact that I quite possibly had lost the chance of a lifetime. For weeks, I avoided all of my teammates, and especially Karen.

However, common sense eventually intervened, and it took the form of a Buddhist monk with an Osaka accent.

Aoki-san. Open up. The muffled voice was followed up by a series of loud knocks on the door. Groaning, I looked around and tried to figure out if I could subtly turn all the lights off, shut the curtains, and hide under the couch until Sorata went away. But no, it was too late for that, and I had no other choice but to go to the door and open it. 

Finally. I wasn't about to stand there all night banging on the door, you know... Sorata gave me a mock glare as I silently stepped aside to let him in. 

Something you need, Sorata-kun? I asked wearily.

Nice place you've got here. Must get lonely living by yourself, eh? He gave me a meaningful glance.

I sighed. So you know.

Sorata's expression became serious. I'm only 17, so I can't judge you or pretend I understand or anything, but I gotta say that you and Karen need to work this out.

There's nothing to work out.

Of course there is. She's been miserable. I finally convinced her to tell me what was wrong... I gotta say I couldn't believe what she told me, Aoki-san. He gave me a glance that was mildly reproachful, but mostly concerned.

I ran my fingers through my hair and gave a short laugh. So I'm not as perfect as you all thought I was.

I don't believe you're a bad person, Sorata said, after a short pause. And I don't think Karen does, either. Everyone makes mistakes--

I'd hate to break you of your youthful ideals, Sorata-kun, but some mistakes can't be erased. I sighed again, my eyes scanning the young monk's open, earnest face. He was right to say he couldn't pretend to understand. And yet, within him I could see a bit of the optimism I'd always clung to, before the lie, before the fight, before everything went wrong. Were his words really so unrealistic?

Maybe not erased, but fixed. Forgiven. Sorata grinned. Love forgives all, you know.

I gave a small start. 

I really did love you, you know...

She loved me, I knew that much now. But... did I love her?

The thought had never crossed my mind... all right, maybe once or twice.

But not seriously... we were only friends... weren't we?

You two would be good together, Sorata said, as if reading my thoughts. Not as good as Nee-chan and I, of course. But almost.

I managed to crack a smile at that. So, you think I should...? It was a bit surreal, taking advice from a boy nearly young enough to be my son, but I had to admit that my own guidance was getting me nowhere.

Talk to her, of course. And be completely honest this time. Tell her how you felt then, and how you feel now.

What if I'm not sure? I muttered, nervously twisting my fingers together.

But you are, aren't you? Sorata gave a little wink.

I stared at him. You know, you really are surprisingly insightful.

Thanks. ... I think.

A slight smile crossed my face. So... with all this wonderful advice you have to offer, I'm surprised you haven't made more progress with Arashi-san...

Sorata gave an exaggerated wince. You wound me! And anyway, Nee-chan's a lot tougher to deal with than Karen-san. But she's coming around. I know she'll see that I'm the only man handsome and charming and  
wonderful enough to be with her...

I laughed. Good luck, Sorata-kun. And... thanks.

No problem! 

A moment later, the door clicked shut and I was once again alone. Sorata had given me a lot to think about (and that in and of itself was surprising). I felt a little less hopeless about the situation with Karen now, but was I going to have the courage to go through with the solution?  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The answer to that question, I decided after three days of brainstorming, was no. If I called her, she would hang up on me. If I showed up at her apartment, she would slam the door in my face. There was no way I'd even be able to make a connection with her long enough to say anything, let alone be able to explain myself and make her forgive me.

Of course, I'm usually an eternal optimist, and all these rationalizations were yet more covers for my fear and unwillingness to take the risk. It was very close to irony, that my first act of cowardice had been because I was ashamed of her, and my second was because I was ashamed of myself.

Besides, I thought defensively, why should I have to be the one to make the first move? After all, she wasn't completely innocent either. She'd overreacted, even called me a liar and a betrayer of trust--

Oh. Right. That part was true.

All the same, after going through all of these excuses in my mind, I convinced myself that a reconciliation with Karen was impossible and that I should just try to move on with my life. After the Promised Day, I'd never have to see her again...

... considering we both survived, that is...

This new development made me stop and think for a moment. Did I really want to die, or watch her die, knowing that we had never made up? The thought made me shiver, and I was in the process of rethinking my decision when the doorbell rang.

Sighing, I realized that it had to be Sorata, no doubt wanting to know why I hadn't made a move yet. I walked to the door, my rationalizations and excuses on the tip of my tongue, and opened it.

And everything I had been about to say faded into the white noise that suddenly flooded my mind, because the person behind the door was not Sorata at all.

Shell-shocked, I moved aside to let her in, then closed the door behind her. I wasn't surprised to find my hands trembling as I released the doorknob. My mind raced, searching for something, anything to say; somehow I didn't feel that was going to cut it this time.

She turned around to face me, and her eyes locked onto mine. I was rendered even more speechless by all the emotions swirling in those golden eyes-- anger, grief, self-doubt, loneliness, and maybe, beyond all of that, the slightest hint of longing. Was it for me? I didn't know, but the thought gave me a small surge of hope.

Then I realized she had begun to speak.

Before you start making excuses, I want to tell you why I'm here. At that moment, her eyes narrowed and all the mixed emotions faded from them, leaving nothing but a steeled emptiness. I felt my heart sink. I didn't plan on speaking to you again, but I realized that with the kind of lives we lead, either of us could be dead at any moment. And I didn't want to die with this unsaid animosity between us. So... I forgive you. 

This would have given me hope, except for the fact that it was stated in a completely toneless and emotionless voice, and the way she was looking at me conveyed no warmth at all. Do you really? I blurted out.

Surprise flashed over her face. Do I really what?

Forgive me. You don't, do you? You're only saying this to soothe your conscience.

She blinked, and her eyes narrowed even more in anger. You are just the right person to accuse me of insincerity, aren't you?

The comment hit me like a slap, and I felt the breath rush out of my lungs for a moment. 

Do you have any idea what you did to me? she continued, her tone becoming less and less controlled as she spoke. Let me tell you a little something about my life. From the moment I was born to the moment I met you, no one had ever given me any respect, any sign that they saw me as anyone that mattered... anyone human. First I was a demon, then I was an unwanted burden, and finally I became a piece of meat, a faceless outlet for men's desire. 

And then I met you. And you were kind and charming and seemed to really care about what I said. I knew that when you looked at me, you saw me, not the lingerie, not my good figure, not the pleasure I could give you. It was so different, and so wonderful, and... I knew I loved you then. I can't explain it... I just knew.

I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly as if I was going to cry. So this was why she had taken it so hard. I wanted to say something, but I had a feeling that this was something she had never told anyone and that if I interrupted, she might stop and shut me out forever.

And then you told me you were married, and I can't explain to you how disappointed I was. But then I realized that... it really didn't matter, as long as... She stopped and bit her lip, and I thought I saw tears sparkling in her eyes. As long as I knew there was someone like you out there. In the end it didn't matter if you were mine. I'd always have that moment... the knowledge that someone, somewhere, thought that Kasumi Karen was something more than a soapland mistress, more than an abnormal freak with demonic powers, more than an  
abused and unwanted little girl.

She looked up at me. And that's what really hurt me. Not that you didn't want to date me. Not even so much that you had lied. What really hurt was finding out that you were just like the others. You were ashamed of me like everyone else.

She closed her eyes, looking exhausted for a moment, as if telling me all of that had taken a lot out of her physically as well as emotionally. When she spoke again, it was in a soft and measured tone. I'm going to leave now, Aoki-san. I just wanted you to know.

I swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in my throat enough to speak. She walked past me, making her way toward the door, and some involuntary reaction made me reach out and grab her wrist. She jerked in surprise, and I stared up at her with wide and desperate eyes. Wait. Please. I...

Aoki-san, I have to go. Something like fear flashed in her eyes, as if she was afraid of what I might say.

I've never been good at finding the right words in difficult situations, and my mind was racing so quickly that I almost couldn't keep up. However, when I opened my mouth, the absolute last thing I would have expected came out.

I love you.

She looked shocked; I think I looked almost as shocked. She gave a little shudder, a deep sadness flashing in her eyes before she recovered and gazed at me with just as much anger as before. You think I haven't heard that before? I don't need to be lied to anymore.

I'm not lying, I insisted, and it was true. I knew now that it was true. The only problem was trying to convince her. You've told your story, so it's only fair that I should have a chance to tell mine.

Karen hesitated. All right, but don't expect me to believe it, she murmured, sitting down beside me on the couch.

I took a deep breath. I had no idea what I was going to tell her, so I decided to wing it and hope that whatever I said would have an effect on her. I'm not going to lie about what I did. But you have to believe me that it was spontaneous, almost involuntary. I hadn't planned to lie to you. But... you made me so nervous, because I knew I was attracted to you, even though I... I didn't want to be.

She shifted, and I could tell this was only angering her more, so I pressed on desperately. I was naive. I was a thirty-two-year-old man who had lived a sheltered life and still thought of people like you as the unknown, something people like me didn't get involved in. And so it scared me when I went in there and I found out you were this wonderful, intelligent, kind and charming woman who deserved so much better than she had. I didn't know how to react, so I spoke without thinking. And that was the worst mistake I've ever made.

Karen stayed silent. I didn't dare to look at her to see how she was reacting. So then we met again, and became friends, and I realized all over again how amazing you are. And I started to regret my decision, and I thought about telling you, but I knew you'd react like this. And... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you.

I could hear her breathing becoming ragged, as if she was holding back tears. Though I hated the thought of hurting her more than I already had, hope surged through me and I continued. I should have said yes, that day when you asked me out to dinner. I know that now, and if I have to live with the results of that bad decision for the rest of my life, however long or short that is, I will. I'm not asking you to give me another chance with you. I don't think I deserve it. I just want you to forgive me... really forgive me... and tell me that there might be a chance that we could be friends again someday. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am... sorry that I lost the chance of a lifetime, but more sorry that I hurt you. I paused. And I do love you. Please believe me.

I turned around then, and my heart wrenched at the anguish in her eyes. A few stray tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she swiped at them almost angrily. I never cry, she said in a shaky voice, managing a slight smile. How do you manage to do this to me?

I'd prefer it if I never made you cry again, I said softly.

She took a long time to answer. I shouldn't forgive you, she said finally. 

Probably not, I replied, closing my eyes in defeat. You can go, then. I just wanted you to know.

Hold on... I didn't say I wasn't going to. Only that I shouldn't. She sighed, brushing at her eyes with one hand. I shouldn't give you another chance, either.

You're right. I don't deserve it.

Self-pity is so unlike you, Aoki-san. She smiled faintly. Maybe I'm an idiot, but... I believe you.

My heart soared. 

Besides, one look around this place tells me you haven't cleaned in a week, she went on, her smile not fading. And you don't look so great yourself... circles under your eyes, clothes all wrinkled... you really do fall apart without me, don't you?

What can I say... you bring out the best in me. I finally allowed myself to smile back.

Then, to my surprise, I felt her slide her hand into mine. So if I was to decide that you deserved another chance... 

I interrupted, hoping that even a little bit of the elation I was feeling was shining through in my eyes.

Karen laughed. I see you've learned your lesson... I'm glad. She shifted closer, leaning on my shoulder. Then we'll try this.

I really am sorry, I said softly, looking down at the top of her head. 

I know. And for the small fee of your complete and total obedience to me for the rest of your life... I could hear the amusement in her voice. 

And what do I get? I couldn't help asking, moving my other hand up and down her arm.

What makes you think you deserve anything? she replied playfully. Aren't you lucky that I'm a forgiving and generous soul, then... The slight purr in her voice made me shiver, in a good way.

We stayed there for a few minutes in companionable silence, as I gathered my courage. Ne... Karen-san... I spoke up finally. 

Do you... you know... want to... stay tonight, or something? 

She giggled, and I felt my face grow hot. Hmm... let me think about it. 

Before I could respond, she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down onto the couch, kissing me hard. I felt my head spin and ran my fingers through her hair, kissing her back with surprising enthusiasm. 

After a while (I had lost track of time), she pulled away, leaving me breathless and shocked. She smiled. 

I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. So... that's a yes? 

Karen laughed. I'd say that's a definite yes.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The next morning, the sudden music from my alarm clock brought me slowly back from a deep and dreamless sleep. Slowly, I cracked one eye open, then the other. For some reason, I felt utterly exhausted, as if I hadn't slept at all. Stirring and pushing the bedcovers down a few inches, I racked my hazy mind to figure out what day of the week it was, and just how late I was for work. 

Then I rolled over a little, and the fuzziness of my brain abruptly cleared.

There, lying beside me, tangled up in the blankets and looking just as comfortable as if it were her own bed, was one fast-asleep and slightly clothing-challenged Kasumi Karen.

Blinking in disbelief, I groped around on the nightstand for my glasses, never taking my eyes off her. As soon as I slipped them onto my nose, her prone form came into sharp relief. It was definitely her, and she was definitely... well... completely naked. In fact, we both were.

My face flushed immediately, and I felt suddenly as if I was going to either run from the room or collapse. Somehow I managed to do neither, but had the presence of mind to pull the blankets back over Karen's shoulders. 

I was definitely awake by then, and my memories of the night before were all but crystal clear. The only thing that wasn't clear was exactly how I felt about it. I was a little shocked that things had moved along so quickly, but at the same time I felt no regrets at all. And it had been nice...

Blushing even more, I reached out to push a lock of hair out of her eyes. She didn't even stir, lying peacefully curled up under the covers with a slight smile and a look of utter relaxation on her face. I didn't think I had ever seen her look this content.

I found myself at somewhat of a loss for what to do next. Morning-after etiquette was not exactly an area of expertise for me. I considered getting up to make some breakfast, at least make some coffee, but at the same time I felt that it might seem insensitive to leave before she had awakened. But then again, wasn't it a little... creepy to just sit there and watch her sleep?

Luckily, before I could get completely bogged down in politeness, she stirred and opened her eyes. I tensed, waiting for her to notice me. For a moment, she looked a bit confused, no doubt wondering why she wasn't in her own bed; but as soon as she spotted me perched tensely on the edge of the bed, her eyes cleared and she smiled. 

I could tell my face was turning red yet again, and not surprisingly I found myself at a loss for words. Ah... good morning, I finally stammered out lamely, managing a slight embarrassed smile.

She giggled a little and stretched. It is, isn't it?

I blinked. Maybe it was just the very distracting way that the sheets were threatening to slip off her as she stretched, but her words were simply not registering in my mind as anything that made any sense. It is what?

A good morning. She winked, and managed to catch me off guard with a kind of half-tackle, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me back down beside her. A very good morning, she purred into my ear.

This was all rather flustering, and I barely managed to stammer out a response, hardly knowing what I was saying. Er... yes... yes, I agree... 

Do you? She grinned and leaned over me, an oddly appealing predatory look in her eyes. So I didn't disappoint you?

Oh... oh, no, of course not... I could feel my face flush anew at the memories-- she had certainly not been disappointing in the least. 

Karen gave me a mock frown. Even after all that, you still get all embarrassed and blushy whenever I talk to you?

Um... it might help if you put some clothes on, I mumbled, still blushing furiously and trying to resist the temptation to let my eyes wander away from her face. 

Oh, would it? She barely hid an amused smile. No... I think I'll keep tormenting you for a while longer. You are just so adorable when you're all flustered. 

This, of course, flustered me even more. I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again.

And remember, I still haven't completely forgiven you. She leaned down closer and gave me a glare that may or may not have been faked. You may be illegally cute, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook.

She paused a moment, then broke into a reluctant grin. ... Okay, so maybe it means you're mostly off the hook. 

I gazed up at her sincerely, so sincerely that I forgot to blush for a moment. Honestly, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you--

Oh, I'm sure I can think of something, she interrupted with an entirely more suggestive smile.

In the few seconds I was able to think coherently before she kissed me, I couldn't help but admit to myself that things had actually ended very well this time.  
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  



End file.
